


open up your eyes (and say all your goodbyes)

by hearden



Series: Legacy of Power [8]
Category: Mighty Morphin Power Rangers, Power Rangers, Power Rangers Turbo
Genre: Angst, Depression, F/F, F/M, PTSD, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-04 18:02:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12173928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hearden/pseuds/hearden
Summary: Kimberly's life from the perspectives of her teammates.(A companion prequel oneshot to Legacy of Power.)





	open up your eyes (and say all your goodbyes)

**Author's Note:**

> remember how i set the angst bar w/ that kimberly and 5+1 yellow rangers fic? yeah well this is The New Standard™
> 
> i only tagged Main Ships but like u can Basically consider everything a ship lol
> 
>  **warnings:** see tags above and also, rated m for some sexual content.
> 
> for @kimberlyannharts on tumblr bc i want u to suffer bc it's kimkat lovefest month

**i. rocky**

Kimberly visits Rocky at his house after his injury before she leaves to go back to Florida.

They don't get up to much, with him just sitting on the couch and her busying herself around his family's kitchen. His parents are out, so they openly talk about everything Ranger-related under the sun. Everything except, of course…

He had heard the news from Tommy because Tommy's the leader, always the one who breaks the news of important things to people who need news broken to. Kimberly and Jason hadn't been anywhere nearby during that.

It's a heavy burden to carry, he suspects.

Nobody really talks about it.

Kat and Adam had asked Kimberly and Jason how they were feeling and had received uncharacteristically short responses in return.

And that was that.

Kimberly throws a frozen pizza in the oven and winds up a kitchen timer. "Says here that this has roughly six portions," she reads before tossing the box into the trash can.

Rocky grins, "Well, I can eat for five, and then there's you."

She rolls her eyes at him and plops down on the couch next to him, taking care to not do so in such a way that sets his back off. "You think I can't eat as much as you just because I'm small?" Kimberly challenges, eyes twinkling.

"I never- That's _not_ what I was implying," he sputters.

Kimberly laughs and gently punches him in the arm. More like a very, very soft love tap.

He still can't wrap his head around the things that Tommy said she'd done under Maligore's influence. The girl in front of him could never be so cruel. Of course, Rocky _knows_ what an evil spell from the right (wrong) hands could do to anyone, but… it seems wrong, somehow, that sweet, gentle Kimberly could ever turn on her friends.

He frowns at the thought. Maybe that'd been Divatox's intention. The worst heartbreaks come from the purest hearts. Or something like that.

Kimberly notices his frown and misreads his thoughts, his mood. "It's gonna suck at first," she says, softly, "Seeing someone else as your color."

Rocky's head snaps up, and he looks at her, brow furrowing, "What?"

"Oh," she mutters, scooting back on the couch, away from him, suddenly, seemingly, shrinking into herself, "That's… not what the look on your face was for."

But, the thread's already been unraveled a bit, so Rocky tries to grab at it.

"Is that how you feel, Kim?" he asks, looking at her curiously.

"No, no, of course not," she shakes her head, hastily, "Kat was perfect for the job. I wouldn't have picked her to take over, otherwise."

Rocky tilts his head, "This isn't about Kat. This is about you." He pulls on the thread she'd given him a bit harder; asks, gently, "Are you… how are you doing?"

There's a moment of silence as Kimberly pulls her legs up to her chest and props her chin on her knees. She looks so small like this, even smaller than she already is.

Rocky reaches out and puts a hand on her arm, taking care not to catch himself in a weird angle that'd send a sharp jab of pain up his side.

Kimberly gives him a small smile then sighs. "I… I didn't know how hard it'd be not being a Ranger," she admits, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "Training takes my mind off of it, but every time I hear about the Power Rangers in the news or whatever… it makes me wonder about what'd happened if I had stayed, you know?"

"You wouldn't have won a whole bunch of gold medals and become a world-famous gymnast," he offers, grinning widely, "That's for sure."

She chuckles, "Guess I'll always be famous, no matter what, then."

"Hey," Rocky winks at her, "Don't forget us when you've got a private jet and a vacation house in Italy, alright?"

Kimberly snorts and rolls her eyes, "You'll be the first one I won't forget, DeSantos. Promise."

"I'll hold you to that, Hart."

He smiles, but his eyes ask her an unspoken question, still grasping at that thread.

Kimberly visibly sobers up and shifts in her seat. "I'm fine, Rocky, honestly," she murmurs, snipping the thread.

The kitchen timer goes off with a _ding!_ and Kimberly goes to check on the pizza, getting off of the couch with a beautiful grace and ease that could only come to a natural gymnast.

He watches her take the pizza out of the oven and forgets all about red eyes and lava demons.

 

* * *

 

**ii. jason**

"Do you think we're bad people, Jason?"

He almost chokes on his coffee and clears his throat for a length of time, frowning.

Across the table from him, in a coffee shop in the middle of Miami, around lunchtime, sits Kimberly.

They haven't broken up. Yet.

But they're getting there -- he can feel it.

Questions like _Do you think we're bad people, Jason?_ would be a good indicator of that.

"Uh, no?" he says, still off-guard, then straightens up and repeats, "No, we're not."

They come back to this conversation every few weeks. It's not quite a fight, but also, it's kinda like a fight. Not with each other, but with themselves.

Kimberly doesn't seem to believe him -- she never does. It's harder for her because she takes it personally. Jason, on the other hand, he takes other people's weight on his shoulders. Things like failing to get to the Green Candle in time which resulted in Tommy losing his powers -- that's what kept Jason up at night.

Sure, Maligore haunts his nightmares, but not in the same way he haunts Kimberly's nightmares.

Demonic possession doesn't affect him in the same way it affects her.

"Bad people wouldn't have been chosen to be Rangers," he offers, his voice firm and reassuring.

She doesn't look like she believes him all that much.

"What if," she asks, quietly, so quietly that he has to lean forward to hear her, even if hardly anyone else is around, "Good people can become tainted?"

Jason believes in different things than her, always has. She goes to church Sunday mornings, most of the time, but hasn't in the past year.

He came with her, once, to try to get her through the door, but she backed out, and he knew the look in her eyes -- the one that said she was afraid some invisible force wouldn't let her in.

The invisible force has always been herself, though.

"You're a good person, Kim," he answers, taking a sip of his coffee to avoid the question entirely.

She gives no acknowledgement of hearing him and gazes out the window. He studies her profile, knowing that she knows he's staring, and thinks about the original five and when things were simpler.

 

* * *

 

**iii. billy**

The Ranger Reunion -- before it's ever called that -- for this year is covered by a fog of depression.

They've lost their first Ranger, who Billy isn't quite familiar with but he thinks he would've liked her, and all three Pinks react to it differently.

Cassie didn't want to come at all, but Kat drags her with Kimberly in tow.

Kat spends most of the evening at Cassie's side, sometimes close and comforting, sometimes off to the side, watching her for signs of a breakdown.

Billy ends up outside on the fire escape with Kimberly.

"How's Aquitar?" she asks after taking a long sip of cream soda.

"Fine," he responds with a shrug, "Wet."

She snorts, "You know, it's ironic that you used to hate fish…"

"I _know_ ," he groans, playfully jabbing her in the arm, "Jason won't let me live it down."

He doesn't see Jason enough to have that be true, but it sounds like the right thing to say.

Kimberly looks up the stairs of the fire escape. "I wanna check out the roof," she declares and, without even waiting for Billy to follow her, starts heading up, her footsteps echoing on the metal steps.

It takes Billy a moment of blinking and staring after her before he goes after her.

Halfway up, it turns into a race when Kimberly shouts down at him, giggling, "Keep up, slowpoke!" Grumbling, he tries to climb faster, but it's hardly a fair fight.

At the top, Billy catches his breath while she wanders around the rooftop, looking up at the night sky.

"Not fair," he calls out, pouting, "You had a head start."

She grins at him and sticks her tongue out, "I used my head. That's not considered cheating."

He straightens up and studies her. "How's gymnastics going?" he asks. Even though her back is to him, he sees her shoulders tense.

All of their friends are in college, save him, her, and Aisha -- presumably, but that could also be false and they'll never know. It's a common _something_ that they're missing out on.

The truth of the matter is that college would be nothing to him and she wants to be part of something more than he does. It's not the same as fitting in because Kimberly Hart would never compromise herself to blend in with people, but… something that even Billy's ranged vocabulary can't explain.

"It's going fine," she mutters, approaching the rooftop ledge.

Something in her voice makes Billy step closer until he's right behind her. She doesn't turn around.

"Kim," he says, softly.

She leans forward, not far enough to fall, but he reacts instantly, wrapping an arm around her waist and yanking her back. With her back against his chest, he can feel the tension in her muscles, like a cat ready to pounce.

Billy wonders if gymnasts always land on their feet like cats do.

"Let me go," Kimberly says without much resistance in her voice.

"I don't want you to fall." He doesn't say what else he doesn't want her to do.

"I'm not gonna fall, Billy," she murmurs, almost sweetly. For a second, she sounds like the Kimberly he remembers from years ago. One who didn't answer in small fragments of sentences. One who remembered how to smile.

He tightens his hold around her waist, slightly, so that she can't wriggle away and do something… drastic.

"Just wanna make sure you don't," he says, then, "What's wrong, Kim?"

Her breath hitches.

"Talk to me. Please."

Billy feels at a loss. He's on the disadvantaged side, never being around for most of the year. There's no telling how his friends' lives are going when he's not there.

Kimberly shifts in his arms, turning so that she's facing him, and he loosens his grip to allow her room to move. She hides her face in his shirt, but he knows that she's crying because her tears seep through the fabric.

"Promise me you won't tell anyone," she says, muffled against his shirt.

Billy's brow furrows, and it's his turn to tense up.

"Kim, I can't--"

" _Promise_ me, Billy," she repeats, and he detects something like desperation in her voice.

He hesitates then sighs, "I promise."

There's a long silence. Seconds pass, minutes maybe. Billy wonders how long they've been out here, standing on the rooftop, her face pressed into his shirt, him looking out at the night sky and the street below.

An ambulance siren blares as it passes down the block.

Kimberly breaks the silence at that. "I'm scared," she says, so muffled and soft that he doesn't hear her at first.

"I'm sorry?" By the time he asks, though, his brain's already caught up.

"I'm scared," she repeats, pulling away to speak clearer. Billy doesn't let go of her, though, and she frowns, pulling up her arms to push him away. Her hands are on his chest, but he refuses to budge.

"I'll let you go if we step away from the edge," he says.

Kimberly purses her lips, thinks about it, then crosses her arms as best as she can with the little area of movement she has to herself, which is practically none. "I wanna sit on the ledge," she says in the tone of a compromise that Billy doesn't remember agreeing to.

"That sounds like a _terrible_ idea." Then, "If you do, can I hold your hands?"

She squints at him.

"To make sure you don't fall," Billy clarifies then gives her a small, forced smile, "Because you're so small that a gust of wind could knock you over."

That wrestles a bitter chuckle out of her, and Kimberly sniffles, wiping her cheeks dry with the sleeve of her jacket. After a moment, she concedes and nods. "Okay… to make sure I don't fall," she echoes.

He lets go and watches, warily, shoulders tense, as Kimberly boosts herself onto the ledge with her back to the street, her legs dangling off of the ground. She holds her hands out to him, and he takes them in his. Her hands are more calloused than he remembers when she left the team. Months and years of training must do that.

"What are you scared of, Kim?"

She sniffles, again, and looks at him then away, "Everything."

"Can you start smaller?"

"I-" she stops, squeezes her eyes shut, and breathes, shakily, "I'm… I'm scared of myself."

Billy furrows his brow in confusion, "What happened with Maligore wasn't your fault, Kim, you know that."

Kimberly shakes her head and almost pulls her hands away from his, but he tightens his grip -- she'd fall if he lets go, and he's not willing to risk that. "I _know_ it wasn't, but…" she swallows, having trouble getting the words out, "I should've been better. I should've resisted or- or _something._ "

He sighs, knowing that trying to get Kimberly to change her mind and see this in a different light is a battle he'll lose. There's not much he can do except let her know that he's there for her, and even then, he won't always be there.

Case in point, tomorrow morning, he'll have to say goodbye to his friends and go back to Aquitar.

"I'm sorry," Billy says, uselessly, at a loss for words, despite being able to explain things beyond modern science in seconds flat.

He doesn't know how to explain why, sometimes, bad things happen to good people and why, sometimes, those bad things leave scars that can never be seen and never be healed.

 

* * *

 

**iv. trini**

Kimberly throws her a graduation party after she walks across the stage with her Bachelor's in biology.

By "graduation party," it turns out to be her and Kimberly, nestled up in her apartment past nine with a bottle of wine.

"Look at you," Kimberly teases, nudging her in the side, "Big shot doctor, ready to take on the world."

Trini snorts, "Uh, Kim, please, I haven't even started med school yet. Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

Kimberly reclines on the couch and shrugs, "Nah, you'll do great. And, hey, when you've got some free time, feel free to check out my ankle. You'll be helping me save loads on medical bills."

"You're rich," Trini deadpans, rolling her eyes.

"And? I'd rather use that money on other things… like… I dunno, going out to fancy dinners or something. DisneyLand. Whatever."

Trini raises an eyebrow, "I hope you wouldn't be treating yourself to fancy dinners alone."

Kimberly takes a well-timed sip of wine and avoids answering for a moment. "Mmmm," she shrugs, trying too hard to look casual, which never works on Trini. She's seen Kimberly fawn over boys for years; nothing gets past her anymore. "Maybe, maybe not," Kimberly says in a sing-song voice, mysteriously wiggling her fingers in the air.

She giggles and shrugs, "Who knows? Maybe I'll treat you and Zack to a date night or something."

Trini tilts her head and times her next words, very, very carefully for maximum impact. "Oh, yeah, totally. You know, maybe the next time we all get together, you can bring us an engagement gift."

Kimberly nearly drops her glass of wine. "Shit, _what_ ?" Her voice drops to a conspiratory whisper, even though Zack isn't home, "He's _proposing_?"

Trini doesn't even have a chance to respond before Kimberly comes to the conclusion herself and squeals, bouncing on her spot on the couch,  "Oh, my _God_ , this is so exciting!"

Chuckling to herself, Trini grabs Kimberly's hands in an effort to get her to calm down before she gets ahead of herself. "I don't know _when_ it's gonna happen, Kim, calm down," she says.

At Kimberly's expectant gaze, she continues, slowly, "But… we have been talking about the future and things like that, and I _did_ … find a jewelry catalog in one of his drawers."

"You _snooped_ ," Kimberly whispers, gleefully.

Well, it doesn't sound so bad when she puts it that way.

"I was looking for something," Trini counters, somewhat petulant.

" _Besides_ ," she continues, giving Kimberly a playful shove, "I've got plans, but what about you? You've been single for awhile, and you're getting a little bit better, right? Are you thinking about looking for a relationship?"

The speed at which Kimberly sobers up is mind-boggling. She immediately shrinks into herself, hunching her shoulders, and when she speaks, she wrings her hands together, which Trini's known from years of friendship to be one of Kimberly's many nervous tells. "I mean, yeah," Kimberly murmurs, biting her lower lip -- another one of her tells -- and looking away, "Things are going good, I guess. I can't complain."

"So?" Trini asks, waiting, "Are you interested in anyone right now?"

Kimberly frowns and takes a long drink from her glass, pointedly avoiding Trini's eyes. When she sets her glass down on the coffee table, her frown is still in place. "I don't know, Trini," she says, "There's just been… a lot going on, you know, every year since…"

Kimberly doesn't say his name and Trini wasn't there to see it, but she knows that Kimberly's thinking about Maligore.

"Yeah," Trini finishes for her, "Astronema attacking and Kendrix and all that."

Kimberly shrugs, "You know, since Adam and Tanya are together now and, then, you and Zack -- it's got me thinking about, like, if I should even bother trying to go out with people who _aren't_ Rangers, you know? Because I feel like it's something I could try to avoid but then, I don't know, I'll probably end up back at square one, anyway."

"Well, in that case, do you have any Rangers in mind?" Trini teases with a light smile, hoping to get the mood to soften. It's not as easy to get Kimberly to talk to her about her problems anymore, but it _is_ easier to distract her -- mostly because, Trini thinks, Kimberly's become more open about letting herself get distracted.

With a roll of her eyes, Kimberly snorts, "There's not many choices left, really."

Trini purses her lips, "Who knows, maybe you'll meet someone at this year's Ranger Reunion."

It slips out without her meaning to, but once it does, Trini finds that she likes the sound of it.

Kimberly nods, appreciatively, "Ranger Reunion? That has a nice ring to it."

Trini giggles, "What can I say? I'm a natural."

 

-

 

She loses track of how much Kimberly's had to drink somewhere between putting on a movie to watch and throwing a tray of frozen chicken nuggets into her oven because Kimberly complained that she was hungry.

"Who needs to go to college?" Kimberly declares, proudly, definitely somewhat drunk, while biting off the head of a dinosaur-shaped nugget, "This is the college experience _right_ here!"

"Uh-huh," Trini shakes her head and chuckles, amusedly. She's had significantly less to drink even though Kimberly insists that she should drink more because it's _her_ graduation and _her_ degree.

Kimberly squints at the rest of the nugget in her hand and then looks at Trini, frowning, "Is this considered cannibalism?"

"We're not dinosaurs, Kim," Trini points out.

"Yeah, but," she tilts her head, contemplating, "I just bit off the head of Jason's brother or something."

"No, you just bit off the head of a processed chicken nugget."

Kimberly stares at her for a long moment then shoves the rest of the nugget into her mouth and chews. "Jason's gonna be mad at me," she pouts after swallowing, "I ate his brother."

"I definitely think you've had too much to drink," Trini concludes.

"Sure," Kimberly says, sounding completely unconvinced, "What time is it?"

Trini glances at the clock on the wall. Way too late even if she's got nothing to do tomorrow. She tries to not make a habit of staying up too late doing nothing. "Time for us to head to bed," Trini responds. Kimberly sullenly pouts.

 

-

 

It takes her almost half an hour to wrangle Kimberly into bed. It's not that Kimberly's too drunk to brush her teeth or get changed into her pajamas. No, she's coherent enough to do all of that by herself. The problem, as Trini finds out since she's never quite seen Kimberly more than just buzzed, is just that her mind runs at a million miles an hour and she ends up getting distracted by a billion things at once.

Trini knows of Kimberly's all-over-the-placeness but with alcohol in the equation, it just seems… like more.

Not to mention that she's an energetic person by nature, so by the time Trini gets into bed and slides under the covers, Kimberly's still pretty much awake.

"Trini?"

The lights are off, and Trini's staring at glow-in-the-dark stars she has stuck to her ceiling. She can feel Kimberly beside her, wiggling and tossing and turning every few seconds.

"Mhm?"

"I'm gonna miss you when you go off to med school," Kimberly says, her voice sounding not serious enough to make Trini think that she's sobered up. Which she wouldn't have at this hour, anyway. The thought sounds random enough that it could just as easily be another fleeting thought that flies through Kimberly's drunken mind.

"I'll miss you, too," she says back, smiling even though Kimberly can't quite see her.

"I'll come visit you," Kimberly promises, and Trini can practically _hear_ the proud grin on her face.

"Pinky promise?" she asks, reaching out into the darkness. It takes a second, but Kimberly's pinky slips into her own and she squeezes once, firmly, before letting her hand drop back down on top of the covers.

"Trini?" Again, Kimberly's voice calls out into the silence of the room.

She makes a noise of acknowledgment in the back of her throat.

"Can I give you a goodnight kiss?"

Trini blinks. "Yeah, sure?" She waves away the confusion in her mind as the excuse of Kimberly being drunk. It's definitely not the weirdest things that's ever been said to her by a drunk person, so she's not quite fazed.

The sheets shuffle and shift around as Kimberly scoots closer to her, and in the dark, now that she's closer on the bed, Trini can see the faint outline of Kimberly's profile.

She expects something quick and on the cheek.

Kimberly's lips press against hers, abruptly, and Trini freezes on the spot.

She doesn't move -- doesn't know if she _should_ move or not or what's even going _on_ \-- and just waits it out.

There's a momentary lapse, a brief second where she can taste the minty toothpaste she'd let Kimberly borrow and smell the strawberry shampoo from her hair.

And, then, it's gone when Kimberly pulls away and plops back down next to her in bed.

"Kim?" Trini calls out when she's managed to find her voice. It takes about a full two minutes for her to do so -- she may or may not have counted the entire time.

Kimberly doesn't respond, so Trini looks back up at the ceiling, at the stars, and takes a deep breath, recalling at least half a dozen meditation techniques to her mind in a split-second effort to purge all the thoughts in her brain so that she can fall asleep peacefully.

Try as she does, though, Trini doesn't get a good night's rest.

 

-

 

The next morning, she wakes, headache-free, but the same can't be said for Kimberly, who groans loudly, announcing the fact that she's awake to the whole world.

"Ow," Kimberly mutters, pressing her face into her pillow, "Everything sucks."

Trini, somehow, manages to find her voice. "I'll make sure to whisper all day today for you," she teases, but it doesn't feel as lighthearted as it'd did last night.

"Shut up." Then, "Did anything happen last night?"

Sitting up and pulling the sheets around her, Trini avoids looking anywhere near Kimberly and, instead, gazes out the window. "Um, define _anything_ ," she says, hesitantly, knowing that her voice would betray her if she looks at Kimberly.

"Uh, I don't know," comes Kimberly's muffled reply, "I didn't get on any tables and dance like an idiot, did I?"

She chuckles; it almost gets caught in her throat, "You dance pretty well, you know, being a gymnast and all." Trini takes a deep breath and recalls those same meditative techniques from last night, not that they helped her any bit then or now.

She turns and looks at Kimberly, who has the sheets drawn up to her chin, brown hair splayed out on the pillow so messily well that it seems implausible. Kimberly's eyes are on her, curious, and she bites her lower lip, waiting for Trini to speak.

Kimberly Hart has always been good at almost everything she does. That's how it was when they were kids, teenagers, and even now, as adults.

"No," she lies through the sinking of her heart in her chest, "Nothing happened last night. You just got really drunk and passed out."

Trini wonders if, maybe, at some point, Kimberly got good at lying to her best friend.

 

-

 

Zack never proposes, and Trini attends that year's Ranger Reunion in a casket.

 

* * *

 

**v. katherine**

With her classes, Kimberly always gets home hours before Kat does from work. It gives her time to plan whatever she wants -- something for later in the night, if needed.

It's a sort of game that they've fallen into where a new sight will greet Kat every evening as she closes the door to their flat behind her.

Tonight, as she tosses her bag on the living room floor, she sees Kimberly, sat on the sofa, hands clasped together, dressed in an oversized hoodie that Kat recognizes as her own.

The TV's off, so the only noise in the flat is the fridge creaking as always and their breathing. Kimberly's is shallow and missing a beat as if she's trying too hard to not breathe irregularly.

Kat glances at the bedroom. The door's wide open.

She can't guess in her head at all what Kimberly's got planned, so she just sits down on the sofa and tilts her head at her girlfriend. "Something up?"

"I need to talk to you," Kimberly murmurs, still staring off into space and not looking at her directly. Kat tries not to let herself feel too anxious at hearing that.

"Yeah, of course," she asks, "What's wrong?"

"I wanna… try something new," Kimberly says, nervously wringing her hands together, "If you're in the mood to, of course."

Kat's heart lifts with relief. Something about Kimberly saying that they need to talk always gets her ready to be broken up with. It's definitely not good for her anxiety.

"I'm always in the mood to try anything you want to, babe," Kat says, placing her hand on Kimberly's arm.

Kimberly is silent for a moment then, in a low voice that makes Kat's stomach flip, whispers so very quietly, "I wanna be on top tonight."

 

-

 

They've never done this before, which sounds just as ridiculous and unbelievable to Kat now as it did the first time she thought it.

Kimberly's always been the more adventurous one between the two of them, something that Kat found surprising considering that the sex they had was always built around two things: Kat being on top and Kimberly being restrained.

Everything else would change on an individual basis, but those two always stayed the same.

At first, it'd taken Kat some time to get used to. The roles they fell into behind closed doors didn't seem like the roles quiet, soft-spoken Katherine Hillard and energetic, golden-hearted Kimberly Hart would take up.

But, then again, they're not juniors in high school anymore, and the power coin Kimberly had pressed into her hands years prior is just a useless relic in a shoebox underneath their bed.

Kimberly presses her into the same bed with such calculated abandon that Kat trembles.

There's a reason why they haven't tried this before -- a reason that Kimberly refuses to part with but that hadn't taken Kat too long to figure out, anyway.

Kimberly's kisses against her throat light her skin on fire, and where her hands pin Kat's wrists down on the mattress, she feels the touch of the devil.

She moans, throwing her head back. Her skull bangs against the headboard, just for a second, but it's enough for her to see stars. Kimberly chuckles to herself, but Kat hears a growl instead.

Her chest feels hollow enough to simply collapse and leave her empty.

There's a safe word on the edge of her lips, but if she says it now, then she could lose one of the best friends she's ever had -- one of the only friends who knows what it's like to live with an entire world of darkness on her shoulders.

When Kimberly moves to press a searing hot kiss to her lips, Kat closes her eyes.

She doesn't look at her girlfriend, doesn't look into her eyes because doing so will break the spell, and for once, neither of them want to be saved just yet.

 

-

 

Kat wakes alone the next morning and wanders out into the kitchen.

Kimberly's stood, her back against the kitchen island, staring blankly at the fridge door or, more specifically, at the various pictures of them and the others pinned to the fridge door.

Her shoulders sag more than normal.

Careful to keep her voice soft, Kat sidles up to her. Their shoulders touch, but that's it. "How are you feeling?" she asks.

"I didn't think it was possible to want to die more than I already did," Kimberly responds, flatly, and Kat nods to herself. It doesn't warm her heart to hear that, but she'd woken up knowing that the mood for today would be… different.

"You wanna talk about it?"

Kimberly ignores the question and poses one of her own, "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, of course not," Kat answers, easily.

Kimberly glances at her, catches sight of the bruise peeking out from underneath her turtleneck, and turns away, frowning.

"It didn't hurt, Kim, I promise," she amends, reaching out to put a reassuring hand on Kimberly's shoulder; Kimberly flinches away before she can.

"It hurt _me_ ," Kimberly fires back, shaking her head in disappointment, "I didn't-- I shouldn't have done that."

"You didn't do anything I didn't want you to do," Kat says. There's enough power in her bones to make sure of that.

But, the problem's never been on her side, always Kimberly's.

Kimberly rubs a hand over her face, sighing heavily. "It was too easy," she laments.

Kat waits for elaboration; Kimberly continues once she realizes she's being waited on.

"It was too easy to just… reach inside of myself like that," she mutters, frowning, disgusted with herself, "To just take control like that."

" _You_ took control," Kat takes a deep breath, "Not Maligore."

In the beginning, it'd been like dating two people at the same time -- Kimberly and her demons. The fact never bothered Kat. In all honesty, she always took her own demons to bed with her, hiding them underneath her pillow as she dreamt of being responsible for more than just simply injuring her girlfriend.

But, over time, one swallowed up the other, and last night, Kat had known things had changed.

Kimberly squares her shoulders but doesn't meet Kat's gaze. "I think we should break up," she says; Kat counts that as one of the most honest lies she's ever heard her girlfriend tell.

"You don't really think that," Kat says, trying and failing to not sound desperate. She pulls Kimberly into a hug. Kimberly doesn't resist, but she doesn't melt into Kat's touch like she normally does.

"Maybe I do," Kimberly counters, her voice not as firm as it could be. She says, quieter, "Last night wasn't supposed to feel as good as it did."

Kat would argue with that, given how pleasantly attentive Kimberly had been to her, but she knows that's not the meaning Kimberly had been going for.

"There's nothing wrong with feeling good about taking control," Kat murmurs, pressing a kiss to Kimberly's forehead, "People have done it loads of times, I'm sure."

"Yeah, well, those people haven't been sacrificed alive," Kimberly says, wryly. She wriggles out of Kat's hold and crosses her arms, still frowning.

The poutiness would look adorably cute on her if Kat didn't have the context.

Kimberly tries again, but her voice still fails her, wavering slightly, "We need to break up because I don't wanna-- I don't wanna use you."

Kat raises her eyebrows, "And how would you be using me?"

Kimberly looks at the floor. "We started dating because I was grieving."

"I could've stopped you at any time," Kat points out.

"Well, you _didn't_."

"Because," she takes a step forward and hesitantly brushes her fingertips along Kimberly's cheek, "I didn't want to."

It's not about them dating -- maybe it never was.

Maybe they just agreed to call it a relationship to ignore all the shit that was going on inside of it.

Kat finds that she doesn't care too much either way. It's not important, these labels, what exactly is going on between them. What she cares about is Kimberly.

"I'd rather have you and know where you are and how you're doing," she explains, her voice soft but firm, fully knowing just how wrong the words taste on her tongue, "Than have us break up and not know if you're alive and well or if you've gone and died in a ditch somewhere."

At that, Kimberly scoffs and shakes her head. "We should stop right now," she protests for the last time, weakly.

But, they don't.

 

-

 

Their crash and burn comes over a year later, and it's less explosive than Kat had expected.

They deteriorate, and Kat finds that, as friends, there'd been more substance to their relationship than when they'd actually started dating.

Romantic outings blur into each other and every time Kimberly starts up a new semester of classes, nights just turn into a new way for Kat to decipher what's wrong with her girlfriend in between hands wandering up skirts and backs slammed against doors and walls.

They stop using ties and scarves a few months before breaking up and switch exclusively to handcuffs. Kimberly hides the bruises with bracelets and long-sleeved shirts, and Kat pretends like it doesn't pain her to fasten the cuffs a fraction tighter every few weeks.

Their game is just that -- a game that they lie to themselves and say isn't reality. Inside of their flat, the only consequences for seeking death are eager hands and sinful lips.

Outside of their flat, those consequences would warrant many trips to a therapist and, perhaps, a hospital.

As such, Kat tries to bring up the idea of facing reality to Kimberly every now and then, slightly pushing but not too much -- not enough to scare her off but enough to make her think about it. Kimberly shuts her down every single time, but with each attempt, Kat can tell that Kimberly becomes more and more uneasy.

They don't fight about it -- hardly have ever and hardly do.

But, in place of fighting with each other, sometimes, Kimberly switches places with her and fucks her until she forgets that Kimberly Hart used to be a sweet girl who loved life more than she craved death.

It helps that they haven't talked to any of their former teammates since Trini's funeral, otherwise Kat's sure someone -- probably Adam or, God forbid, Tommy -- would've spoken their mind by now.

She and Kimberly hide the turmoil easily, though, at their first and last Ranger Reunion as a couple. Everyone else from any team before Turbo is sorely absent, save for Tanya, and even then, Kat uncomfortably stomachs the guilt that comes her way when she catches Tanya staring at her for a moment too long.

Kimberly's best and brightest performance comes out between laughing at a joke Carlos cracks and asking Justin how college is going.

For a moment, Kat truly falls in love with her and forgets why they don't fit together.

But, then, Kimberly catches her gaze.

Nobody else but Kat sees the way her eyes darken.

 

-

 

"Did you see the way Tanya was looking at you?" Kimberly asks on the drive home from the airport.

It's the first thing they've said to each other in almost an entire day through a much too long flight from the States back to England and all of the security checks and baggage claim that comes along with that.

"Who says she was looking at me?" Kat asks, failing to keep the surprise of being caught off-guard out of her voice, "Maybe she was appreciating the Oscar-worthy performance you put on."

Kim rolls her eyes and lets her head thunk against the passenger window a little too loudly; Kat resists the urge to take her eyes off of the road, especially when she knows Kimberly won't look at her, regardless. "What'd you want me to do?" Kimberly counters, bitterly, "Let everyone see me be a fucking downer?"

"Your best friend died," Kat says, not bothering to sugarcoat her words -- it's too late to save them both by being soft and sweet, "You have a right to grieve."

"I'm not gonna grieve in front of other people," Kimberly mutters, frowning as if the idea itself offends her.

Kat grips the steering wheel a bit harder. Wonders if Maligore feeds on more than just purity and strength -- maybe on grief and self-hatred. Maybe he feeds on whatever he wants to, whatever they believe about him.

Maybe it'd be easier for both of them if Kimberly was _really_ still possessed. At least, that way, Kat wouldn't feel so helpless if she looked into Kimberly's eyes and saw the devil instead of just a girl who thinks the devil lives inside of her.

 

-

 

"You deserve someone better," Kimberly whispers, sad enough to be an apology, into her ear that night, hours into the early morning.

Jet lag should've knocked them both out, but instead, Kimberly's hand is between her legs and Kat's back is arched.

"No, I don't," she responds, truthfully, her throat dry. It's hot in their bedroom, like it always is, but she feels flames licking at her skin where Kimberly's free hand ghosts over her collarbone.

A thumb presses against her windpipe, and Kat fights against her brain's instant instinct to panic.

"You do," Kimberly says, insistent. The pressure on her throat lessens for a second.

Kat allows herself to think about it in that second and decides that it's a useless thought.

She was already lost before Kimberly, and now, she's still just as directionless.

Maybe, some years from now, she'll chase whatever that look Tanya had given her at the Ranger Reunion was, if the window of opportunity is still open.

She takes a deep breath and says, "Crane."

Kimberly scrambles off of her in a flash, pulling her shirt back on before Kat even sits up. "I'm sorry--" she says, hastily, but Kat puts up a hand to halt her apology. It hadn't been why she'd stopped.

Kat leans against the headboard, holding the sheets up to her chest. "I don't believe in people deserving or not deserving someone else, Kim," she says, softly, "They just… exist."

Kimberly takes a moment to process the words and then, her face twists in irritation, and she snaps, her jaw clenching, "Maybe we should exist apart, then."

She doesn't know what else to say to that that she hasn't already said before. "I want this to work," Kat pleads, uselessly.

But, that's the thing about the two of them. They'll never work, not like this.

 

-

 

The next morning, Kat wakes up to an empty flat, and the little that Kimberly owned is completely missing.

She steps into the kitchen and stops in her tracks at the sight of a pink origami crane sitting on the counter.

 

* * *

 

 **vi. zack**  

The way Zack sees it, he leaves for Switzerland and, in the span of so many years, things just _happen_ without him there.

The list of updates in Kimberly's life are too long for him to count without losing track and having to start over.

Breaking up with Tommy starts the list and Trini's death puts somewhat of a stop to it, and somewhere in there is being captured by Divatox, Zordon's sacrifice, and quite a few failed relationships.

He avoids the Ranger Reunion of 2004 on purpose but ends up in France before the year ends on business.

As fate would have it, he spots Kimberly walking down the street, toward him, and catches her arm as she walks by, completely engrossed by a book in her hands.

She drops the book and almost punches him in the face.

"Whoa, Kim, it's me!" He throws up his hands to cover his face, and she relaxes, squinting at him.

" _Zack_?"

He peeks out from between his fingers, "You're not gonna hit me, are you?"

Kimberly rolls her eyes and bends down to pick up her book, "Only if you say something that annoys me."

Zack drops his hands down to his side and grins, "There's my girl."

Her eyes harden for a split-second.

He decides, then, that he definitely won't mention the mass e-mail Kat sent out a few months ago -- the one that was about Kimberly and noticeably didn't include her or Tommy in the recipient addresses.

"How are you doing?" he asks, opening his arms for a hug and fully expecting a fake answer to come from her mouth.

Zack's never experienced it for himself, but he's heard from the others in complete confidence that Kimberly Hart added _experienced liar_ to her resume. Whether or not she's actually good at it depends entirely on how much he lets her get away with, he guesses.

Considering Kat's e-mail, Zack figures that a lot of people have let her get away with a lot of blatant lies.

Kimberly hugs him, but it feels lacking. Not quite as warm or _full_ as her hugs used to feel.

"I'm doing alright," she answers after pulling away.

"Just alright?" he teases with a small smile, "Not absolutely _amazing_ now that you've been reunited with the Zack-man?"

She punches him in the shoulder, "Well, now, I'm doing _terribly_ because you called yourself the Zack-man."

 

-

 

She doesn't invite him to her place, so he takes her to his hotel room, and they hang out and abuse the room service that's paid for by his business expenses.

Zack watches her flip through TV channels aimlessly and stops at a news report of the Power Rangers. It's not a breaking news report or anything, but rather, footage spliced from over the years. Every now and then, the news stations do this -- reminisce over the superheroes that have protected Earth for decades.

A clip comes on of the most recent Ranger team, the one that's inactive now, and Zack easily picks out which one's Tommy from his fighting style.

Kimberly turns off the TV and sets the remote down as gently as she can on the coffee table, but he can tell she wants to slam it.

"I have to go," she announces, too sudden to actually be an honest truth, and grabs her jacket off of the couch, "It was nice seeing you again, Zack." The brief kiss he gets on the cheek is hollow.

The door opens then closes, and Zack gets up, grabbing the remote. He clicks the TV back on just in time to see grainy footage of the original Pink Ranger.

 

* * *

 

**vii. adam**

The December after Adam's house suddenly gains four new random occupants, Kimberly shows up on his doorstep.

The doorbell rings, and he opens the door, expecting Xander because Xander had promised him during last month's Ranger Reunion that he'd drop by frequently and made good on that promise, only to find Kimberly standing there, her hands in her pockets.

"Hey," she says, softly.

"Uh, hey?" Adam furrows his brow in confusion and steps aside to let her in, "Are you-- why are you here?"

"I was in the neighborhood," Kimberly answers, shrugging her jacket off; he takes it from her and hangs it next to the door.

Adam crosses his arms. "I don't think I believe you." His tone isn't accusing, just direct.

Kimberly tilts her head and mimics his stance, crossing her arms as well, and even in her short  stature, manages to look more intimidating than he feels, "That's fair."

He waits.

"I just wanna hang out with you," she sighs, "Is that a crime?"

Well, no, as a matter of fact, it's not.

 

-

 

He doesn't try to ask again why she's there as she helps him unpack Christmas decorations from his closet.

That's just who she is, now -- Kimberly Hart, the wanderer, the fleeting presence.

Adam only has a vague idea of what's been going on in her life through other people -- mostly Kat -- telling him, but even then, Kimberly keeps the most personal details to herself. There's gaps in her story, things that she won't even tell Kat, things that Adam doesn't know if she'll ever tell anyone.

He knows the basics -- the things he was there for like the first power transfer, Kimberly leaving, her break-up with Tommy, Maligore.

The others, he hears about from other sources, and it doesn't make sense to him that, out of all of them, Kimberly would be the one who cut herself off the most. It doesn't fit into the image he has in his mind of the sweet valley girl from Angel Grove who still slept with a stuffed puppy in her bed and carried around a blue and purple backpack that her father had bought her before her parents got divorced.

But, then again, their lives and the things they've dealt with and gone through don't leave much room for predictability.

Adam walks out of the room to get something and comes back to Kimberly jumping and desperately trying to throw the star on top of the tree and failing. "You know," he says, laughing, "You could've grabbed a chair or just waited for me."

Kimberly sulks and glares at him, pouting. She holds the star to her chest like a precious treasure. "I'm perfectly capable on my own," she mutters, defensively.

He wonders just how many meanings she put behind those words.

Smiling, he bumps shoulders with her and raises his eyebrows, "If we work _together_ and I lift you up, I think you'll be able to reach the top then."

Kimberly thinks over it for a moment then nods, pointing a finger in Adam's face. "Don't get handsy," she warns, but the smile on the corner of her lips is entirely joking.

"Promise," he says and lifts her up by the waist. She's light -- always has been -- but when she sticks the star up on the tree and he lets her down, he notices that there's something different about her lightness. It's not the weight, per se, but--

She turns and finds herself abruptly close to him, her back to the tree.

Kimberly glances up, and Adam follows her eyes to see the empty ceiling.

"Was just checking that there wasn't a mistletoe there," she murmurs, letting out a nervous chuckle.

Adam stares at her. The lightness isn't in her weight, but in her eyes. They're brown, beautiful as always, and not quite as hazy as they used to be.

"You've got a pretty big imagination, though," he says, eyes crinkling as he smiles.

She returns his smile after a moment's pause. "Yeah, I guess I do."

When he kisses her, soft and slow, his hands on her waist, there's a hesitance, a slight delay before she sighs into it and relaxes.

He feels the air shift like a fog lifting.

Maybe Kimberly can see the world differently as she puts a hand on the back of his neck and leans into the kiss.

 

-

 

They bake cookies in silence. It's not tense, though, as Kimberly hums to herself while she works.

She breaks the silence while they wait for the oven to heat up, "I'm seeing someone."

Adam masks his disappointment with a cough, but she blinks and shakes her head, "Oh, no, I don't mean like that-- I mean, I'm seeing a therapist-- I mean… you know what I mean."

"Oh," he straightens up and looks at her, curiously, "You mean you're going to therapy."

"Yeah," Kimberly nods then chuckles, a little bitterly, "Took me long enough, right?"

"I don't think so," Adam says; it's his turn to shake his head, "Everyone does things at their own pace. You _want_ to be there, right?"

She murmurs her affirmation.

"Then it's the perfect time for you to be going," he concludes, and Kimberly gives him a small smile in response.

 

-

 

They never become anything serious, but he sees her off the next day by wrapping one of his jackets around her shoulders, even as she pulls her own off of his coat rack.

"This is yours," Kimberly points out.

"I'm aware."

She raises an eyebrow at him but says nothing.

"Are you sure you don't wanna stay?" he asks, "My team's coming over tomorrow for a little get-together. I know you're friends with Kira."

His tone is hopeful, but he knows she's like the wind.

"I've got to go, Adam," she says, smiling apologetically, "Maybe someday, I'll stay, but not today."

She gets up on her tiptoes and kisses him once on the cheek and then another on the lips, sweet and too short.

"Come back to us," he says as she walks out the door, and she stops, for a moment, and nods to herself.

"Yeah," Kimberly calls over her shoulder, "I will."

 

* * *

 

**viii. aisha**

When she thinks of Kimberly, the first things that come to mind are all the good things she's missed by being in Africa, far away from her true home -- the birthdays, Kimberly winning gold at the Pan Globals, Kimberly becoming a gymnastics coach and, later, making plans to write a book about her career.

Aisha doesn't dare think about the bad things she missed -- Kimberly breaking up with Tommy, Jason, and Kat and cutting herself off from Zack, Billy, Rocky, and Adam.

Kimberly losing Trini.

Kimberly losing herself.

At her first ever Ranger Reunion, Kimberly won't leave her side, and Aisha wonders if it's because Kimberly doesn't want to lose her, either, but she lets herself be coddled. She lets Kimberly usher her around and introduce her to dozens of Rangers that she can hardly remember the names of because everything's just a colorful blur, but she does it because Kimberly's shoulders look the lightest they've ever been, even if Aisha's never seen what Kimberly's rock bottom looks like.

Adam and Rocky have told her all she needs to know, enough for her to decide that none of it matters to her.

They take a walk in the backyard of the Hartford Mansion, holding hands underneath the night sky.

"I forgive you," Aisha says once they've found a spot to stop at.

Kimberly looks at her, completely confused, "For what?"

She shrugs and smiles. She _could_ say a number of things, but none of them would feel as true. "It just looked like you needed to hear it, I guess."

A heavy silence hangs over them. Kimberly drops her hand, and Aisha watches as she uses both of her shirt sleeves to wipe tears from her eyes.

When she's done, Kimberly sighs and nods. "Thank you."

"Of course," Aisha responds, draping her arm around Kimberly's shoulders, "That's what friends are for, right?"

 

* * *

 

**ix. tommy**

Between the two of them, they've got four bags -- two duffels and two suitcases, a pair for each of them.

A week is what they've discussed, but Tommy has a feeling that they'll be staying for longer, most definitely.

In the elevator, Kimberly taps the button for the third floor and leans back against the wall, meeting his eyes. She knows, as he does.

He fiddles with the handle of his suitcase; it's heavy with the weight of a smaller briefcase tucked away inside of it -- something important enough to dust off from underneath their bed and carry all this way with them.

The elevator dings, and the doors open. Kimberly exits first, going down the hallway to find their room, while Tommy trails not too far behind her.

Kimberly stops. "Here it is," she sighs, "309."

Tommy pulls the keycard out of his pocket, "You ready for this?"

The question he asks isn't the one he means.

She bites on her lower lip, thinking, and fidgets with the wedding band on her left hand.

Finally, she admits, "No, not really," then, "But, I have you, don't I?"

Tommy smiles and nods, "Yeah, yeah, you do."

He slides the keycard against the door's scanner, and the lock clicks open.

**Author's Note:**

> title from Rising Sun - Prince of Spain which is such a kimberly song tbh it always gives me feels


End file.
